


Love is a Battlefield

by notmyyacht



Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Crusades, F/M, Horses, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Multi, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, another immortal husbands meeting fic, but with a twist!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26921947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmyyacht/pseuds/notmyyacht
Summary: As two men face off against their destiny on the field of battle, their horses find something else. Maybe the warriors should take a page out of their book!
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 9
Kudos: 76





	Love is a Battlefield

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is the result of inspiration [this post](https://cryoverkiltmilk.tumblr.com/post/631359985032527872/so-im-listening-to-a-compilation-of-interesting), along with the thought of "that scene from 101 Dalmatians where Pongo tries to get the humans together, but with Joe and Nicky's horses during the Crusades," and encouragement from [theresatvjoe](https://theresatvjoe.tumblr.com/) who also brought the post to my attention (thanks dearie!). This was meant to be a lot funnier than it turned out, but I hope you guys get a kick out of it anyway XD
> 
> Thank you [PigsInABlanketFort](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PigsInABlanketFort/pseuds/PigsInABlanketFort) for being my lovely beta for this!!! =D

There was an excitement in the air as they all stood in formation. Syrus pawed at the ground, his hoof kicking up grass and dust that hung around his legs. This was far from Syrus’s first battle, but it didn’t take away from the buzz that each and every stallion in the army felt. He could feel Nicolò shift uneasily on his back. His human companion, his friend. 

Syrus did not understand battles or why humans raged war and killed each other so often, but he liked his companion. Not everyone was as lucky as Syrus to have a human who visited his stable often, or even tended to him instead of letting the adolescent humans take care of him. Nicolò was kind and would often pat his flank or neck and sing to him. Sometimes, if they were alone on the eve of a battle, Nicolò would weep and tell him that he was scared. Fear of death, that was something both of their species shared. 

But Syrus did not dwell on death as he and Nicolò charged forward. As the two armies met on the field and the air filled with the crashes of metal against metal, screams of victory and agony, and the blood that spilled everywhere. 

Nicolò steered Syrus through the enemy’s army. He turned left, saw the flash of Nicolò’s sword in the light. He turned right and saw the blade again, now painted red. He jumped over a fallen horse and his rider. He sped onward as Nicolò directed him.

Then, another charge came from their left, shoving into Syrus’ side. He let out a surprised squeal as he stumbled backward, nearly toppling over. Managing to regain his balance, Syrus was suddenly aware that the weight on his back had lightened. 

He spotted his companion crossing blades with the man on top of the mare that had rammed them. The mare was a stark white beauty with powerful legs and four grey socks. She struggled to move as the two humans fought from the awkward angle. 

Nicolò released a hand from his sword to grab the other man by the edge of his breastplate and drag him off his horse. The two fell to the ground, recovered quickly, then resumed their fight. 

Syrus whinnied as he trampled around the space the two warriors made their own private battlefield. The white mare neighed, briefly standing on her back legs, then stomping down on the worn dirt ground. Instinct seemed to take over as the battle was suddenly forgotten to Syrus; Nicolò’s fight with the other human was only background noise as he attempted to approach the mare. Agitated, she stood on her back legs and kicked forward again as a warning. Syrus backed away. 

The mare settled on all fours once again. Syrus hesitated, then attempted to approach her again.

Nicolò was certain that the sword had pierced his heart… his enemy had struck him right through his chest! ...His enemy.. Where was he…? Upon their close confrontation, they had stabbed each other, he was certain. Nicolò glanced around and felt bile rise in his throat. 

The battlefield was quieter now, although even in the fading twilight he could see fighting still going on about a mile away. The ground was covered in bodies, some of his enemies, some of the very men he had eaten breakfast with earlier that morning. So much death… How had he survived? 

Nicolò pressed a hand to his chest, the cloth and armor there were stained with blood and yet he felt no pain, no wound. He ground his teeth and rose to his feet, stumbling slightly. He gripped his sword in one hand and glanced around looking for two things: the bastard that had stabbed him and Syrus. 

He was surprised to find them both at once. They stood not too far off from where Nicolò had awakened, but with enough space between them that his enemy did not notice him get to his feet. He recognized his enemy by his size and stature; he had his back to Nicolò and Nicolò could see the dark red bloodstain at the center of his back. So he _had_ stabbed him… 

Was it so dishonorable to try again with his back turned? It was and Nicolò felt shame grace him, his cheeks burning. No, he would not do such a disreputable thing… but he was not about to give the man much warning either. 

He approached slowly, keeping his steps as quiet as possible as he maneuvered between the dead bodies. He gripped his sword by the hilt with both hands, ready to strike the moment his enemy saw him. 

That’s when he noticed what exactly had caught his enemy’s attention. 

It was Syrus and the mare his enemy had been riding. They were… _mating_. Nicolò cringed and shook his head. Of all the times to be doing such a thing… 

The other man was holding Syrus’ bridle and was hopelessly trying to stop them, to get Syrus off his horse so he could ride over to where the fighting was. What a fool. 

Nicolò continued his approach, listening to the string of curses his enemy spoke in the tongue he knew nothing of. He was close enough now. 

“He won’t listen to you,” Nicolò said, knowing the other man would not understand him, “he does not listen to anybody but me.”

His enemy whirled around, shock in those sparkling brown eyes. Nicolò gave him no time to react and drove the end of his blade into his enemy’s gut. His enemy gave a shout of pain, their eyes locking, their faces close enough that when his enemy went limp, his forehead closed the space and rested against Nicolò’s. 

Dead for sure this time, Nicolò pulled back until his sword was freed from the body. He sheathed it and took a moment to admire the stars that had come out. 

Syrus dismounted the mare and shook his mane out. The mare trotted away, then turned back and sniffed at her master’s body. 

“You disgust me,” said Nicolò, patting Syrus’ side. “There’s no time for love when we’re fighting a war.”

Syrus suddenly blew air out his nose, frightened, then gave a short squeal. Nicolò felt the cool metal of a dagger press to his throat, another arm wrapping around his shoulders from behind. His enemy was breathing hard and heavy into his ear, tickling the hair at his neck. He wriggled in his grasp, but his enemy was much stronger than he. 

How the hell had he survived that!? He was dead a moment ago!

His enemy growled something in his ear, dragging him back away from the horses, loosening Nicolò’s footing on the ground, weakening his stance. Nicolò could only watch Syrus stand there, his head once again turning to the mare. He opened his mouth to call out to the horse, when the sharp edge of the dagger ran across his throat.

Hiba watched as Yusuf dropped his enemy’s body to the ground, his chest heaving and his expression strange. And it was strange, for he had smelled of death twice today and yet there he stood unscathed. But Hiba never quite understood humans, but horses did not dwell on such things. No, her attention was on the stallion as he approached her again. Being in heat while riding into battle probably wasn’t the best idea, but she had had enough for now. She trotted away, towards Yusuf. He gently pet her neck as he looked down at his enemy. 

“I’ve killed this man twice today, Hiba. And I am certain he killed me. I don’t…” Yusuf trailed off as the dead human stirred. 

Hiba did not know much about human behavior, but she was sure ending each other’s lives over and over was not a mating ritual. But then again, she had never _seen_ human mating practices, so perhaps this was what it looked like.


End file.
